Shadows
by tiff082
Summary: Someone that has shadows. Shadows of Santana's lost friends. Everything that she'd lost, all her cherished friendships, pieces seem to come back. Through one person. [It's not creepy, or scary, I promise! I'll try to make this story the best I can, there are so many amazing Glee FanFic writers! Rated T just in case]


**Central Park, New York City, NY**

**/Santana/**

I threw my lipstick into my bag. The wind rushed to my face, and I shivered. I tugged at my scarf, and I zipped my jacket a little higher.

It was a really chilly day, and I couldn't really stop myself from cursing at the winds. They were killing me.

My ears were a bright pink, I didn't need a mirror to see that. I had just finished coffee with Rachel. She announced her next performance, a minor role in a small musical produced by a small-business theater group. I was happy for her, but I also felt a small tug in my stomach when she said that. She's been booking so many roles, and I haven't aced an audition since a month ago.

I decided to forget about all that and tried to enjoy the scenery. The wind blew furiously, and I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from cursing out loud.

I heard a soft bang, the sound of hollow wood. A few notes hit the air, and I knew it was a guitar.

Sitting on an old blue park bench, there was a girl, about 12 or 13, clenching a relatively small, white guitar. She had Asian features, dark hair and dark eyes, but her skin was tanned and her eyes were large.

I started to walk closer, trying to get a better look of the girl. I didn't know why, my instincts just told me to. She wore a dark Bench hoodie and a black aviator's jacket, with skinny jeans and Nike's. She had wide, dark blue Ray Ban glasses and a Calvin Klein artist's cap.

The girl picked up her guitar, and she set it on her lap, only upside down, like a left handed guitarist, only that the guitar was a right handed guitar. People passed and some stayed. Those who stayed, they seemed to recognize her, they pointed and crossed their arms and grinned, as if they were expecting a show or something.

The girl smiled and started strumming, and I hadn't realize what song it was until she started singing.

_When the days are cold_  
_And the cards all fold_  
_And the saints we see_  
_Are all made of gold_

_When your dreams all fail_  
_And the ones we hail_  
_Are the worst of all_  
_And the blood's run stale_

_I wanna hide the truth_  
_I wanna shelter you_  
_But with the beast inside_  
_There's nowhere we can hide_

_No matter what we breed_  
_We still are made of greed_  
_This is my kingdom come_  
_This is my kingdom come_

_When you feel my heat_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide_

The strumming and the singing got softer towards the end, and I found myself lingering to the lyrics when the song ended.

People applauded and dropped coins into her opened guitar bag. She kept smiling and thanking. People gave her pats and left, and in a matter of minutes I was the only spectator left standing.

"Mm, Ma'am? Can I help you?" She waved her hand at me, and in a flash my senses came back to me and I remembered how to respond.

"Oh, yeah, yes. I loved your performance, it was great." I pulled a twenty-dollar bill from my purse and threw it into her guitar bag.

"Oh, no, ma'am, I can't take this much." She picked up the bill and handed to me.

That surprised me. Really surprised me.

"Hm?" I raised my eyebrows, confused.

"Uh," she looked down, twirling her thumbs. "I, um, I don't think that you should give me this much. I, er, I appreciate your support, really, but I don't think that the performance I just put was worth twenty dollars. I can't take your money, knowing that it wasn't the best performance. I-I reckon that you're a performer yourself? I can bet that you've seen much better shows than the scrawny one I just put on. I will gladly take one, or two dollars at most, but truly, ma'am, I can't take this much money. I don't deserve this much."

I just stood there, and stared at her hand in mid-air, holding the crumpled bill.

"Um," she said.

I smiled at her, a genuine smile. "I think you deserve this. Take it, girl. It's for your hard work. You're a good kid."

She smiled back at me, and it was the most adorable smile I'd ever seen. I don't mean like 'baby-cute', but she was more like 'sweet, innocent-cute'. She had a dimple in her left cheek, and she smiled with such honesty, such happiness it made you want to smile, too.

She tucked the bill into her pocket, and thanked me. "Good day, miss." She started to pack her guitar, and she slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and flipped her guitar onto her back. I didn't leave, staring at her the whole time.

She straightened up and looked at me, although it was difficult for her to look directly in my eyes. She's so shy, I thought.

"Say," I broke the silence. "Would you like to go for a cheeseburger?"


End file.
